Names
by xMeredy
Summary: You stand on top of the world. You've got it all. And then, the world flip flops. You trip, you tumble, and you fall in love...but to love is to destroy. A study of TMI characters.
1. Jace

**Names.**  
The Mortal Instruments is (c) by Cassandra Clare. I am just a happy, Jace-loving fan :D

* * *

**Wayland.**

You stand on top of the world, apart from the world, above it, beyond it – somewhere far away from it, and yet still there. There is no one stronger, no one fiercer, no one as skilled as you. (And especially, there is no one as attractive as you. Ha.)

You've got it all.

And then, the world flip flops. You lose balance. You trip, you tumble, you dive, and you fall in love.

Suddenly, she is everything. She's the only one who can make you smile. She's the one who teaches you to smile again, in a way you haven't smiled in years. You're reluctant to let this happiness go.

**Morgenstern.**

You're torn.

He's the only father you've ever known. He's the only person you've ever adored and hated so much, all at once, at the same time. He cared for you but didn't care for you. He loved you but didn't love you. He hated you but didn't hate you.

But for the sake of the damn world, for the sake of damn society, and for the sake of damn justice, you'll try to forget that.

But, really?

Really and truly?

You do it for_ her_ sake.

You can't hurt her anymore. You can't bear to lose her again. You can't bear to _think _about losing her again. So, you've got to let go.

You fight back the urges. You pull back the hand that wants to touch her. You pull back the arms that want to hug her. You pull back the lips that want to kiss her.

In your mind, you try. You try to keep your distance. But the distance is painful. The want and the need are painful. This is beyond heartache. You're dying. To love is to destroy, and you're killing yourself.

She's the only one who can make you cry. Perhaps not outwardly, or anywhere where the public eye can see, but somewhere deep inside your heart (or deep inside your pillow) the sobs burst out. The angry sobs, the disheartened sobs, the frustrated sobs – so fearful of wanting, and wanting so much.

You feel like a monster. No, you _are _a monster, and never have you felt so alone.

**Herondale.**

You look at the pictures, the letters, the memories, but you feel nothing. You look at your past, your childhood, your lifestyle, and you feel lost.

Sure, you may not be a monster anymore, but now what? There is nothing left. Everything you knew was a lie. When you shred away those fragments and those pieces of yourself, there is nothing. Nothing but a hollow, empty shell with no name.

**Lightwood.**

The stars are bright, the streetlights sparkle in the night, and the world is bright and happy again. _Bah._ The people below dance and chatter animatedly, but you sit in the shadows contemplative. You've scarred in many places before, but this one stings in a pain deeper than all of those previous scars. The others faded, but this one won't. You know that.

But then she arrives, standing in front of you, looking even more beautiful than you have possibly ever imagined, and says four simple words to change everything.

"Please. You're Jace Lightwood."

It was almost as pleasing to hear that you didn't share the same blood. At least, not in _that _way. And perhaps maybe you can forgive the annoying party-goers below for being so happy when you are, or rather _were,_ so miserable.

You feel stupid, if it were ever possible for you to feel that way. The answer was right there in front of you – is right here in front of you, and could possibly be here for you_ forever_ if you'd take the moment to breathe it in.

You realize this; she's the only one who makes you feel whole again.

You stare as she stands there, finally by your side, and reaches out her hand. You accept it. Your fingers intertwine and you walk off together.

And guess what?

You're still on top of the world.

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I decided to stick my author's blurbs at the bottom instead of at the beginning so readers can dive right into the writing itself ! I personally feel that names are very important, and this belief is illustrated in The Mortal Instruments as well. So, that's why I wanted to write this as a progression of Jace's growth (is that a good word for it?) throughout the novel and how his various names effect that. This is also my way of writing Jace, since I'm sure I would butcher his eloquence and overall awesomeness otherwise :)


	2. Clary

**Names.**  
The Mortal Instruments is (c) by Cassandra Clare.

This idea just sort of came to me a little after I wrote the first chapter. I know it's_ really _short, but that's because we spend the series in Clary's POV so there isn't much else I can say about her that isn't already in the text.

* * *

For as long as you've known, you've been Clary.

Clary.

Daughter of Jocelyn.

Kind-of-sort-of-daughter of Luke.

Best friend of Simon.

Clary.

The artist.

The hot-headed ginger.

The girl who sat in the back of class that nobody really paid attention to.

You were never a Clarissa. Or a Fairchild. Or a Mogernstern. Those were names tacked on to make things clearer when the situation needed it. For clarification, not association.

You were never confused as to who you were, even before you learned about the realm of shadowhunters, even before you discovered you had a father and a brother, even before you met that mysterious, golden-haired boy.

It wasn't a loss of self-identity that you ever faced. No. That was _his_ problem and _his _issue. Never yours.

No. The times you were weak were when the lines were blurred. When you found out that, ultimately, in a sense you _were_ a Mogernstern and a Fairchild and a sister and a daughter all at once – no matter how frayed that made your life.

Suddenly, you were expected to do things you did not wish to do. Imposed to do things under a name you had no claim of and had no claim over you.

But still, you did them. Maybe not for your own name (or names), but for the sake of someone else's who had lost his way.

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Bonus points to whoever can spot the two puns I put in here :D -dork-

I'm working on one based on the **Lightwoods** that _should_ be posted soon!


	3. Lightwood

**Disclaimer: **I don't own TMI. –shrug–

I wanted to thank everyone who has read "Names" so far. I didn't expect to be expanding it this far! So thank you –  
K Annie M, Magickless Sorceress, magic_noctum, Hanna, s.n.p., Her Ghost Eyes, Emily, serenity12345, Rosa Le Barge, Izzy, nic807, Random, Immortal42, Hecticness, Jexyna, ortonga99, Mad Ink, Her Ghost Eyes, jensonluvsu, Miss Troll Queen, , MagMarie

The puns from the last chapter are "**clari**fication" and "**fray**ed" – Clary Fray. Both were unintentional, haha. Random and Jexyna pointed out both correctly, and Immortal42 and Mad Ink each got one. Whoot!

This chapter is meant to be more lighthearted/fun than the others :)

**Lightwood.**

* * *

**Jace.**

In your mind, the Lightwood siblings were divided and labeled in this fashion: Alec, the biggest boy; Isabelle, the center stuffing; Max, the afterthought. Or more politely put: the oldest, the middle(-est?), and the youngest.

You had considered yourself the spare, the extra. Even saying you were the "other one" wasn't fit, because that would mean you did belong with them though it didn't seem like it. No, no. You were never to blend in with the other Lightwoods… or so you always thought.

Between then and now, you've had quite the change of mind. A nice taste of optimism and insight for once in your life. Now you've come up with a better label for yourself: the super special surprise inside the box.

Clary catches your thoughtful expression and asks if you're thinking angsty thoughts again.

You deny it.

**Alec.**

You ask Simon to repeat what he's just said.

He taps a few buttons on his magical box-shaped device – something called an eye pod? – and he repeats: Max, Isabelle, and Alexander happen to be on the top 200 most popular baby names of 2009. It would've been top 10, but Max was 180.

You want to ask if this information is supposed to be some sort of compliment or supposed to be interesting, but fail to see how it could be either… or really, how relevant it all is.

Of course, this is Simon Lewis. You have long given up on hoping he'll ever say something of interest to you. Those mundanes.

Isabelle says something coyly as she throws an arm around Simon in praise. Jace mocks the pair by throwing his own arm over Clary, though you believe he secretly wanted to hold his girlfriend for a while now.

You roll your eyes, separating yourself from the chattery crowd as you always have. You were never meant to be the center of the buzzing. Just the sidelines and the support, watching from afar but always ready to fight.

As the oldest, you've had to stand your ground not just for yourself, but the three others after you. Duly and solely responsible for the munchkins. You are to their strength, power, and source of wisdom. Shield and sword.

Their own Yoda or Dumbledore, so to speak. You hope that you don't wrinkle quite as much, though.

…but now that you think about it, that was a poor analogy. Something that Simon would've come up with. In fact, it's Simon's fault for making you watch so many of those darn mundie movies.

A-anyway, you've realized that it isn't all about being alone after all. One blade of grass bends easily in the wind… or wait, er… what was it? One blade of grass…

It was then that the said annoying mundie noted that Alexander means "defender of men."

The others find this funny, but, again, you have failed to see the amusement.

**Isabelle.**

Being in the middle, sandwiched between the golden boy Jace, perfect student Alec, and needy baby Max – there was never Isabelle time.

What is there to say about you? The middle child. The girl. The flighty one. (Though the latter can't be helped. Alec doesn't know how to have fun, so clearly you have to show him how.)

You're the one who has to prove something, because you're standing among people who already have importance.

Perhaps that's why you brand a whip, because it is a whip that commands for power and attention. It is a whip that snaps at people, making them look your way. You gaze over at Simon, and you're sure there's one thing you've got whipped.

You ask him what the definition of Isabelle is.

He replies, "My God is vow."

You contemplate this for a moment.

…

Then you shrug it off, waving to Magnus who is waiting by the portal.

**Max.**

You are the youngest. The baby. The one who is always shoved behind your parents legs or told to stay in your room until the blood and gore are over. You would, reluctantly so, lying upside down on your bed as you read Naruto. Surely the blood and gore going on outside can't be nearly as bad as the blood and gore in your manga.

Still, you are always told to be here. Stay here. Wait here.

Sit, boy, sit.

Alex bends down, placing flowers on the grave. Isabelle and Jace are with him, standing behind. Their expressions are sad, and probably will be for a long while. Time shall pass, and pass it shall…

Until then, you will always be here.

For your family.

**Maryse. Robert.**

Young Alec is attentive, his eyes wide as he stares up at the chalkboard. The pencil in his hand is being held so tightly you imagine he'll break it. He was always the most studious one.

Isabelle looks bored, doodling on the corner of her paper and yawning.

Jace, who is lessons ahead of his siblings, sits in the corner reading.

Max is drooling on his desk.

"Well," you ask, "what do you think the name Lightwood means?"

Max continues drooling.

Isabelle continues doodling.

Jace continues reading.

Alec launches into a long-winded analysis on each word – how the woods represent a long, strenuous journey and light being en_light_enment and insight. Strength and valor. He babbles on, bringing up literary references from his readings in the library.

You look at each other, smiling.

Well, maybe they'll get it when they're older.

* * *

This one is a bit different from the first two since we see the characters actually doing something – visiting Max's grave in Idris. It also relies more on action to define the characters, unlike the other chapters.

I didn't mean to bring up Simon so many times in Alec's part, but I guess it show how annoying he can be (KIDDING.) I mean, it goes to show how Alec has come to like all beings the same, mundanes alike!

The last line in Max's part totally isn't a reference to my one-shot "I'm always here."

Originally, I hadn't been planning on putting Maryse and Robert in here… but I'm glad I brought them in.

I don't know if I'll be writing any more of these (though I would like to. Clary isn't the only one who has Magnus' signature scorched in her brain.) We'll just see if I get inspired!


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